


The One

by teas_me



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teas_me/pseuds/teas_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Christmas won't be so lonely after all.  Written to fit the following prompts:  Maybe Christmas won't be so lonely after all; Office Party; Mismatched socks. Non Magic AU, Unsure (but still snarky) Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One

He's been The One since that  
first day this past September  
after he graduated from the  
Academy at the top of the class.  
As the captain was leading him  
about the station introducing him as  
my new partner, I could not  
take my eyes away.

He had a build and face and hair  
so familiar - like someone come direct  
from my rather angst filled teenage  
years. His smile was confident,  
and his stride quite sure.  
Knowing his cocky smile would glare  
at me each day from across the desk, I  
could not be certain that I would be  
able to endure it.

But his eyes - those eyes! When I  
looked up, penetrated my very   
soul to the core. A particular shade  
of deep emerald green as I've only  
seen once before and never though   
I would again shone back at   
me with such intensity, luring me in.

Closer.

Then he smiled.   
And I was lost instantly.

He'd always arrive just after shift change  
once everyone else was hard at work  
finishing up reports from the night  
before. Oftentimes, he'd stroll in,   
hair - sex? - rumpled and glasses always  
slightly askew. Then he'd plop himself at his  
desk, and rest his feet up on the corner.   
Mismatched socks always peeking  
out from the gap while he unfurled  
the day's paper and began to read, pausing  
only for a sip from a tea-filled paper cup.

He wasn't shy but rather the opposite -  
unafraid to comment on the previous night's  
activities. A blush rose to everyone's  
cheeks except his as he detailed an evening  
of heavy drinking and even heavier  
grinding against a tall dark-haired man.  
Told all while staring directly into my eyes.  
"No rise from me this time, Mister Potter,"  
I called to him as I quickly turned  
away. And I felt his stare burn my back  
as I went about my business.

I can't recall when it started. Was it that  
one moment when his fingers lightly brushed  
mine while handing over a report from the  
latest bust? Or was it when he’d start  
to linger behind and wait until  
everyone else was gone - after hours  
when he’d sit behind his desk with his feet  
propped up and those eyes staring  
directly at me with - pent up lust? - while  
I finished up the day's paperwork?  
It might have even been something entirely  
too subtle even for me to recognize.

Lately he seems more taken to offer up  
himself as a challenge, arguing every point  
I make – a change from the mindless  
drivel that comes rolling in.

It's there - I'm sure - in the way he looks  
me in the face and smiles, trying so  
hard to be tempting – trying so  
hard so no one else in the station would  
notice. And me – not sure I'd be  
noticed by him would smile back secretly.


End file.
